


Be Past Dave

by badAquatic, orphan_account



Series: Trailerstuck [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Alien Mythology/Religion, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Bathing/Washing, Child Abuse, Illustrations, Implied Relationships, Interspecies, M/M, Stupid Sexy Strider, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:19:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are Dave Strider and you are trailer trash living on a planet filled with trolls, carapaces, salamanders, crocodiles, turtles, and who knows what else are hidden in the swamps near your trailer. </p><p>You're okay with this though.</p><p>Should be read after "things above and below".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

==> **Hours into the past (but not many)**

3:22 PM

You are Dave Strider and you are climbing through your bedroom window, sweat running down your face and back. There’s not much to your tiny bedroom: fading posters on the wall of bands you enjoy ironically like Troll Green Day and Troll Linkin Park your DJ turntables, a square table for playing cards you’ve claimed as your husktop desk. You land on your bed, panting.

You smell like sweaty summertime sex and your dick is still smeared with cherry red troll genetic fluid. You decide it’s time for a quick shower and you leave the bedroom, avoiding the smuppets lying in the hallway and shitty swords and guns on the wall. You don’t know why your Bro insists on cluttering your trailer with more junk. At least he keeps all the chemicals and tools for work in his room. Not that it bothers you to see stuffed alligators and owls, but it’d be harder to navigate around them.

Though the taxidermy beasts, swords, guns, and smuppets are less for decoration and more annoyance to neighbors and possible thieves. Someone who knows the inhabitants of a trailer own a lot of weaponry and makes a living of killing, skinning, and stuffing deadly swamp creatures tends to think twice about robbing them. (Not that you have anything worth stealing in the first place)

And as long as you keep paying rent on time, the DD won’t care about the clutter.

You shower quickly, making sure not to use up too much of the water. Jake’s jury-rigged the shower so that you reuse rainwater, lowering your water bill significantly since he started living here. Jake knew all the tricks about surviving and roughing it. He came from the old South Street trailers before the ever-expanding swamp swallowed it. He stayed there while everyone else relocated to Meyer Road or the East End hotels.

East End hotels.

Roaches the size of fucking cats is all you really remember about that place.

You get dressed quickly, mentally changing the subject. You have music lyrics to kick around and ill beats to compose. And studying for finals. Maybe. If you can squeeze it into your busy schedule.

Someone is knocking at your door hard enough to break it down. Bro got called off to the southern, most watery, sections of the massive swamp with Jake so they won’t be back until evening—coated with mud while Jake is over-eager to tell you about their latest adventure. So it can’t be Bro at the door. It can’t be DD since he does _nothing_ with urgency and rent isn’t due for another three weeks.

Most likely it’s John, who needs a place to lay low while the Batterwitch cools off. Or it could be Jade looking for someone to trade with, or Rose annoyed with her mother for the third time this week.

You’re surprised when it’s Karkat standing at your door. He has a shiner of a black eye and it looks like he got dressed in a hurry. His shirt is on backwards and his pants are…

You smirk when you realize the crotch is clinging uncomfortably to him. The look on his face is hilarious, as if he’s debating between pissing you off or begging you for more.

“Back for round two?”

“ _Shut_ _up_!”

Karkat pushes past you, looking around the trailer. Incredibly flustered. Spitting and growling like an angry wet cat. You shut the door, looking at him. It’s obvious from the darkened patches in his old jeans that he didn’t get an opportunity to properly shower like you do.

“Couldn’t get enough, Vantas?”

“I said: _shut up!_ ” he snarls, “Kankri is a fucktard. I need to use your shower since you poured your weird white alien genetic fluids in me, and if I end up having some freakgrub with three eyes and eight legs because of you, I’ll kick your ass, Strider!”

While he’s still spewing venom at you, you step closer to him.  You stroke his horns lightly. Karkat shudders but still tries to glare at you.

“You can’t get pregnant from a _human_ , Karkat, and I think you came over here for something else since Captor is right next door. You could have gone to him if you just needed to shower and lay low.”

Karkat’s eyes widen. You continue rubbing his nubby little horns with thumb and index finger. The texture of troll horns is odd—like a crab shell covered in very thin velvet. He shudders again. You press him against the wall, the only patch not covered by movie posters, shitty swords or antique pistols.

You whisper into his ear,

“I think you came over for something else. I think you want more of my white fluids pumped into your dripping nook…you want me to bend you over again and pound you for days straight…”

You run a finger down the side of his face. He’s sweating. He growls in denial of course, not wanting to admit how much he wants it. You stroke his horns again. He lets a purr escape. You smirk at the little victory.

“This…this is just a temporary thing. Nnh. My body is just…mm…all kinds of fucked up and needy right now. Even for your weird alien bulge.”

You slide your fingers from face to waist, feeling the old unraveling wool across his chest. You pick lightly at it before moving lower. You lift up the edge of the sweater and start unzipping the acid wash jeans. You tug down the pants and take a look.

You’re familiar enough with the internet and two years of mandatory Health class to know what troll genitalia look like but this is your second experience physically handling it. The bonebulge—the alien _dick_ you’re currently eying (let’s just be fucking honest with what it is)—is usually a very dark shade of the troll’s blood color when inactive and half of it withdrawn into the body. The size, girth, and ridges vary from troll to troll. Karkat’s wriggling alien dick is the average length of seven inches, tapered at the tip and widening toward the bottom where his nook is hidden.

You slide a thumb along the bulge’s underside. The vein in the middle is bright red and the tip is dripping a thin red-tinged fluid. Karkat’s aroused but he’s not ready to cum from just brushing your fingers against him. You rub at index finger around the head of the bulge, still dripping watery pre-cum. His breath hitches as you move down. You bend at the knee so you can focus on the  wet heat between Karkat’s thighs. You place your left hand on Karkat’s left leg, pushing it apart. A dried trail of your white sticky semen has smeared on his inner thigh.

His nook spreads easier. It drips. You glance up at Karkat; the troll is looking down at his bulge and nook, fucking mystified as to what’s going on down there. It’s like he’s a caveman gazing at the creation of fire. You move rub your right hand against the warm lips of his nook…and by shy reflex; Karkat shuts his legs around your hand.

“What’s wrong? You felt my fingers down there just a few minutes ago.”

“Not like _this_ , fucktard…” Karkat murmurs.

You move your fingers in further, feeling the moisture there. Karkat’s head thumps against the wall. A moan passes from between his lips as you work a second finger in. The alien moans more, relaxing his legs. Your fingers are smeared with a bright red. You withdraw them and Karkat gives a disappointed whimper.

You stand up. “Temporary? You sure after this, you don’t want to do anything ever again? You drenched my fingers.”

Karkat’s cheeks turn a brighter shade of red. “Shut up, ape! It’s your fault for sticking your weird nubby pale fingers down there in the first place! I wouldn’t even be heated like this if you weren’t so _hnnn! Fuck, Strider! Give me some warning first!_ ”

You smirk, holding onto Karkat’s hips. You can’t help yourself. Every time he starts hissing and spitting, you want to fuck him. You want to plow him right in his warm red alien pussy. He’s already so slippery. Karkat moans and you feel him tighten around your dick.

Your hands cup his round grey ass. You push further into him. He’s still tight. Claws dig into your shoulders as Karkat holds on, moving his hips against you. He mewls in your ear as you start thrusting. You moan softly as you fuck the troll against the wall. He’s wailing now, knowing there’s anyone around to hear.

He screams when he climaxes. Sweat runs down your glasses as you moan and release deep inside him.

You don’t pull out. Karkat is shuddering with post-orgasm satisfaction. His chin is on your shoulder. You feel his throat vibrate with a slow rumble.

“Are you… _purring_?”

“Shut up.” But of course the stubborn troll doesn’t move, and doesn’t quit with the small throat rumble.

“Holy shit. You’re like a fucking cat. They should call you overgrown horned _cats_ , not _trolls._ ”

Karkat digs his claws more into your shoulder. “Pull the fuck out already.”

“Oh, but that would hurt little Dave’s feelings. You invited him in for a wild party in your vag and then kick him out the minute he passes out on your couch to a rerun of How I Met Your Ancestor.”

“Stop it with the weird as fuck analogies and… _ugh_! Don’t call it a ‘vag’! That’s a human thing!”

“It’s what it is though. Your red alien _vag._ Shit, ow. Mauling my shoulder isn’t going to change that.”

_“Pull. Out.”_

“I think your cherry vag will be upset with you if I do that.”

_“Shut up!”_

You think he moans with more satisfaction when you finally pull out of him. The troll looks winded, sweat running down his face. You know a troll’s fertility cycle is more burden than it is an excuse for the wild sex frenzies mentioned on the evening news. Karkat tries to pull up his pants with some measure of dignity.

“Shower’s in the back if you need it.” you offer.

“I’m not staying long, so don’t fucking bother!”

“Funny, cause you came here demanding a shower since quote Kankri is a fucktard unquote, whoever Kankri is.”

“My genetic father and… _shut up. Just shut up._ ”

You can tell from the snarl that he hates losing an argument, especially to an ape like you. You try not grin too much as you look at Karkat, plainly embarrassed about being satisfied by your human cock.

It’s rather cute.

* * *

 

4:31 PM

You end up bathing together, if only because you need to wash Karkat’s red fluids off of you, because you both smell of sweat and hormones, and because Karkat purrs when your soaped up fingers run down his spine. You’ve showered with trolls before but it was always a brief, necessary regiment. Your eye never wandered much in the showers.

You take this as a time to explore your new favorite troll’s body. You rub a finger along the rough ridges along his ribs. They’re too deep to be grubscars. They almost feel like flaps but they’re shallow and lack the fuzzy edges of seatroll gills.

“What are _these_ exactly?”

Karkat has his back to you and gods; he _squirms_ like you’ve touched a raw nerve. The water in the tub sloshes.

“Don’t do that!” he hisses at you.

“Not exactly answering my question, Karkat.” You pinch the thin ridge of a flap to stress your point.

Karkat doesn’t quite moan, but he sags against you—gasping. “F-fuck…they’re gills.”

“You’re a seatroll?”

“They’re… _mmph_ …vestigial. They don’t do anything.” He angles his head up at you, so you can see his flushed face. “My mother is a seatroll. I would have been one but there was a hiccup I guess.”

“Missed it…” You circle around the useless gills, hearing his breath hitch. “…by _that_ much, huh? Don’t you have a brother who’s a seatroll?”

Karkat’s head lolls forward with a grunt. “I hate talking about that whiny little seashit.”

“Eridan.” you say immediately, because there is honestly no one else in your crowded rag-tag class comprised of society’s rejects that fits the definition of “whiny little seashit” better than Eridan Ampora.

Karkat groans when you say the name. “I like to stick to the fishy hipster’s story that we’re second cousins or some far flung off vein of the bloodline that doesn’t talk to each other.”

“Do trolls even have second cousins?”

“In the same sense humans do. It’s just complicated to trace things.”

“Big families?”

“Big. Complicated. Obnoxious. Take your fucking pick as to why trolls used to _not_ live together in these congested little mobilehive parks but on separate planets entirely. Troll families are _obnoxious._ ”

You pause. “Is Terezi your cousin?”

The question hangs in the air. Karkat tilts his head a little, as if he’s pondering it himself. After a minute he responds in a quiet voice, “I wouldn’t know. My grandfather wasn’t exactly talkative about…things like that.”

He doesn’t bring up his other grandfather. You decide to drop it.


	2. Chapter 2

5:05 PM

 

No sign of Bro or Jake heading home anytime soon. No sign of Karkat looking at the door and inching back to his place. That’s fine though. The bruise on his face is a little more obvious now with the swelling. He bitches and moans when you try to put an ice pack to it but eventually concedes. You clear the smuppets off of the couch and he plops down next to you. At this time there’s nothing but news and cartoons on. You find the Wayback channel airing old CanTown cartoons from fifty years ago.

It’s only when you’re watching the Wizardly Vassal yet again foil the plot of the Authority Regulator you ask: “Who gave you the shiner?”

“Who do you fucking _think_ , dumbass?” He sees the look on your face and balks, “Oh for gods’ sake, _Strider_! I’m not a pink monkey like you are. I don’t break when I get tossed into something and have to go to the hospital. I’m a fucking troll and trolls are fucking violent. You think this is the first time I’ve tumbled with the old man?”

“I’m not even pink, or hairy enough to be considered a ‘monkey’.”

“Yeah, yeah, Strider. Your face is as pale as your ass—”

You smirk. “Funny how that’s the first comparison your mind makes.”

“ _Shut. Up._ Anyway, don’t even think about sending me to the human authorities to put me in some foster custody on the Mainland. They don’t do that shit for trolls unless you’re a wriggler with no parents, and then they usually abandon you on an island with some feral lusus to watch over you before it decides to eat you.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure if that’s true or an exaggeration. To you, the lusus are those white monsters that live in the marshland and swamp and are more pest than caretaker. You remember reading in your textbook about how on ancient Alternia they would take care of baby trolls (or ‘grubs’ as they’re called because troll biology is weird as fuck) but you can’t imagine any of them taking care of a ‘grub’.

Your own encounter with a lusus was…unpleasant. You don’t like to think back to it. On the plus side, that was how Bro met Jake. Love at first stab and shooting. Romance and gunpowder went off in that instant.

Karkat must realize you’re staring at him because he adds, with an uneasy little cough, “It’s _not_ a _big fucking deal_ , alright? Listen.” He rolls his eyes to punctuate his point of how much this isn’t a big fucking deal to him, “When I was like…six I think…I had a _really_ _bad_ temper tantrum. I scratched up my Mom’s face and bit off Kankri’s finger. I don’t know why; I was just fucking upset. Kankri slammed me into a wall and I calmed right the fuck down. Point is: trolls are _aggressive as fuck sometimes._ Even little ones. Why do you think we have separate preschools and kindergartens? Especially since you humans are so infantile about being nipped by _anything,_ even _puppies._ ”

You smirk and lean over. Karkat manages to get out a “What—” and a “The fuck—” before your teeth meet his neck. Trolls in school constantly mock humans for having dull teeth. Dull like a butter knife. Dull like a bovinic-swine. Dull like a carapace. Totally useless features multiplied with small dull nails and boring hemotype sameness.

They always forget about your canines.

The icepack falls on the floor.

Karkat yelps, shudders, and grips your arm as you bite into him. You don’t draw blood. You bite lightly, suck, and wait for the troll to run his claws down your arm. He moans, breathing heavily. You release him and look at your handiwork on his throat. Most trolls say they’re carved from iron while humans are molded from porcelain.

The slag tag on Karkat’s neck says otherwise.

Karkat rubs at it, face already heated. “F-fuck…”

You smirk. “If humans hated nipping so much, we wouldn’t have invented the hickey.”

 

Karkat glances at you slyly, grinning.

“What else have you invented?”

 

5:24 PM

You end up finger fucking his nook on the couch. Karkat is on all fours with his pants bunched up around his knees; screaming “Faster!” and “More, you fucker!” while you thrust your fingers in and out at a rapid fire. He only climaxes once you rub his bulge. It’s amazing how much red there is on the couch now.  

Working a troll’s nook is really no different from a human woman when it comes down to the basics.

 

When you’re done, Karkat is back to purring and you’re washing your hands for dinner.

 

6:13 PM

No sign of Bro. No message on your huskdroid either. Not that you’re surprised. Jake and him were gone for two weeks straight hunting a feral lusus known as Rawhead & Bloody-Bones. You’re lucky you live in a trailerpark and not along Variance Beach, where the teachers would start wondering why your legal guardian and his gun happy husband hadn’t shown up to any meetings and if you were being left home alone most of the time.

At least you’ve had time to improve on your cooking skills. Bro couldn’t cook to save his life and Jake was a wildman who would eat things raw all the time if he could, so that leaves you. Most people cook based on where they’re from but you’re not a hundred percent on where your family comes from. Human ancestry isn’t common to New Jack Island; most humans come from Young Britain, Bojangles, New France, or the Mainland. You’re _almost_ sure you were born in New Jack City. You don’t know where Bro was born.

He doesn’t talk about the past. You don’t push it anymore.

At least the fridge is always stocked before Bro and Jake go off to work. You know your way around crawfish. You can shuck oysters and peel shrimp faster than anyone you know. You crack peanuts and crab shells and lump on spices more into your dishes.

You don’t really follow recipes anymore. You just go with what feels “right.”

Karkat is watching Subjug Shore when you leave the kitchen.

“Hey, get your ass off the couch and come eat.”

“I’m not exactly interested in your human meals.”

“Oh what? The big scary troll’s mighty digestive sack can’t take the sick fires of a traditional Strider meal?”

Karkat glowers at you and stands up. “I can take whatever you ironic assholes can deal out.”

 

You always eat dinner at the picnic table outside when its summer. The lawn is mostly dirt and animal skins left drying in the sun. You can see Jade’s trailer across from yours. There are dogs and Tinkerbulls wandering around her back porch since she always leaves food out for them. There’s laundry drying on a line; T-shirts and jeans smeared with grease and oil. Large car parts adorn her back lawn.

In the back of your mind, you’re kind of disappointed she’s downtown working and not seeing you out here with a troll as he scowls at a bowl of jambalaya. Even some mild outrage would have been nice or at least an annoyed glare from those emerald eyes in your direction about you dating outside of your species to prove a point.

“The smell of this stuff is burning my nose.” Karkat grunts.

You don’t even look at him as you shovel a spoonful in your mouth. “Just shut up and eat.”

Karkat eyeballs a spoon of rice and shredded crab. “What’s in this?”

“Ground up grub bones and motherfucking miracles.”

“That is incredibly moronic, even for _you_ , Strider.”

You shrug. “I heard that’s what little trolls are made of.”

“Little trolls are made of bloodlust, rage, and visions of horroterrors dancing through our heads.”

Karkat swallows not one but _three_ quick spoonfuls of Strider jambalaya to prove his point. You stare at him and just wait for the initial reaction. He folds his arms triumphantly, trying to keep a good poker face.

The mutantblood must not play poker very often because thirty seconds later he’s chugging down Mountain Dew like he’s the nectar of the gods.

“HOLY FUCK MY TONGUE IS ON FUCKING FIRE! ITS LIKE I SWALLOWED A PLANET MADE OF LAVA!”

“I tried to warn you, trollbro. I warned you about the sick fires.”

“NO, YOU FUCKING DIDN’T! YOU SAT THERE AND ACTED LIKE AN ASS AS USUAL! FUCK! I NEED WATER TO WASH THIS DOWN!”

“You don’t see me swallowing this stuff down like its mashed potatoes, do you?”

“SHUT UP!”

He leaves the battlefield and returns with back up in the form of bottled water and two more cans of Mountain Dew.

“And here I thought you had gone back in for bleu cheese or ketchup.” you say, watching him sit back down at the picnic table.

Karkat picks up a spoon like he’s brandishing a scythe for war, “This isn’t over yet, _ape_. If your stomach can take it, so can mine. This is _nothing_ compared to some of the spicy seatroll swill I’ve eaten!”

You smirk. “Try not to scald your tongue.”  

 

Karkat, defiant as ever, goes back to eating to prove his point.

* * *

7:23 PM

 

While Karkat is busy immediately regretting his decision to try and prove his stomach is more iron coated than yours (short answer: it isn’t), you browse the internet on your husktop. You check your legit Trollbook account and get the latest news about what’s going on at school. Who is breaking up with who. Who is dating who. The usual high school business. On occasion you find actual news leaked into the drabble.

“Mr. Perch got caught soliciting a carapace prostitute at Park Avenue so no Geometry test tomorrow.” you inform Karkat.

Karkat is sitting on the edge of your bed, doubled over and trying to be macho through what you know is a serious case of indigestion. He grunts an “ _mm_ _hmm_ ” and winces. You browse your other Trollbook accounts, the ones you maintain out of boredom and because it ties into your online personas: obnoxious hipster-in-denial, ultra liberal who insists man-on-pumpkin romance is an unalienable right that no one should judge him for, and shady interspecies porn aficionado with moustache and shades in all his profile pictures.

The latter was more of an invention of yours and Terezi’s after she claimed that there was more interspecies porn of humans and trolls than there were of regular human pairings. As it turned out, she was right. There’s something about the forbidden intermingling of trolls and humans that attracts pornographers of all sorts, though the faces are usually blurred as you’ve only been able to find amateur hour.

You haven’t looked for anything besides trolls and humans, if only for your own sanity. There are certain things even _you_ don’t want to know exists.

You look at your Trollichum. Only Rose, Terezi, and Tavros are online. Terezi is most likely talking with Tavros about their latest session of Sgrubs ‘n’ Burbs (which you have to constantly tell them that you’re not going to get involved with, no matter how badly they want a Hero of Mind). You check on Rose’s mood and see its set to “Mystified” for a change.

Which of course means she’s annoyed with the usual problem.

You open the log and start typing.  

— turntechGodhead began pestering tentacleTherapist! -—

TG: what did she do now

TT: You will have to forgive me, Dave, as I do not speak the language of the Striders. That is to say: I do not indulge in minimalist sentences lacking syntax and often proper context as it is with you.

TG: come on lalonde

TG: come down from your dark tower perched on the back of whatever horroterror god youre reading on right now and talk with us lowly mortals

TG: ill even sacrifice a goat for your good pal oglethorpe

TT: …

TT: The proper name is Oglogoth, the Deep One. He is the smallest of the Small Gods and I do not serve him, though upon calculating by zodiac and the alignment of stars on the day of my birth, it is most likely he would be my patron horroterror; somewhat of a nightmare-friend if you will.

TT: But if you demand it is so, Strider, I will come down and visit you on the plain of humanity, if only because I’m bored and John is off at some church function with the Batterwitch.

TG: is that why youre doing your whole ponderous goth girl shtick like this is middle school all over again

TT: No.

TT: I could honestly care less about the strained relationship between Batterwitch Egbert and myself. Why should I care about the irritating, close-minded attitude of a woman I do not live with when my own mother provides plenty of maddening frustration for me to deal with?

 

You always wondered why Rose lacked female friends and then remind yourself of the two women she has to put up with in her life: the Ms. Egbert and her own mother. Of course getting Rose to open up about anything is like trying to pry open a mussel that’s already been boiled. For a girl with an interest in sharing feelings and psychoanalysis, she clams up pretty tight about her life.

You try to get her to fume because if Rose doesn’t let off steam she’s bound to blow her gasket.    

 

TG: how about we start from square one

TG: what did roxy do

TT: Honestly, what hasn’t she done so far that I haven’t already griped about?

TT: I know it’s not easy for her; living in New Jack City with her…sexual preferences that are social taboo even in the New Century, being a single mother, and having to support me both financially and emotionally is no picnic. It is not that I despise Roxy.

TT: I honestly don’t.

TT: I can excuse things like the drinking or even being a little forgetful at times.

TG: but

TT: Yes, but. There is always a ‘but’ with these things…

TG: which is

TT: Yes.

TT: I am getting there.

TT: I don’t particularly care for all these secrets she keeps from me and then having to find out from a third party about them. I am not a child anymore. I can understand that my mother has chosen a unique lifestyle that earns her enough money to support us. I just…I just wish she would be honest with me about it instead of burying it in the sand, like a cat using its litter box! It is maddening to know when she tells me that she’s going out to a “party with her co-workers” that I know she is…

TT: Well.

TT: You know. 

TG: yeah i do

TG: and honestly i wouldnt have sent you that picture if i knew that was legit her

TG: i thought it was a lookalike or a photoshop frankenstein job

TG: like some skuz on the net found your moms face on trollbook and put it on some chick with great cans

TT: And most likely pleasured himself to it. Yes, I know how these things work, but there’s no denying it’s her.

TG: it could be worse

TT: My mother is a porn star, Dave, and has most likely been a porn star for some time. How would you react to knowing your legal guardian has been keeping a secret of this great importance from you?

TG: bro and me are cool

TG: we just go with the flow of things and dont rock the boat

TG: he does his thing and i do mine

TG: i didnt make a big fucking deal out of it when i found out he was gay

TG: or when he got married

TT: If I remember correctly, your brother does not like to identify as “gay” and I doubt he is entirely homosexual in nature.

TG: what does that even mean

TG: “I doubt he is entirely homosexual in nature”

TG: last time i checked getting your cock sucked by another guy and liking it is within the definition of homosexual

TT: It is possible for him to be bisexual, or maybe at some point in the past he had bisexual or even heterosexual inclinations.

 

Your eyes hover over the lavender text before you start typing again.

 

TG: what are you getting at lalonde

TG: because youre spinning things in circles again which means either you got something difficult to say or youre just twisting in a purple prose hurricane on ffnet

TG: its like talking to tavros about his fanfiction

TT: Do not compare my skillful mastery of prose to Nitram’s fluff filled scrawling. And honestly: Fanfiction.net? I happen to use AO3 for my writings.

TT: Because of you, I have become rather interested in my mother’s personal history as of late, and have uncovered some interesting photographs of my own stashed away in her closet.

TG: should you really be poking around through a porn stars stash

TT: I want you to look at one of these photographs with me.

TG: its not porn is it

TT: I wish it was simple as that.

—tentacleTherapist sent “ArrivalinNewJack.jpg” to turntechGodhead!—

 

TG: what

TG: what is this

TT: What does it look like?

TG: it looks like two people asleep on a bench

TG: with some rugrat with dumb pointy shades

TG: why are you showing this to me

TT: It’s your brother and my mother, Dave. As teenagers I believe. They can’t be much older than we are now.

TG: yeah so

TG: what does that have to do with anything

TT: I think it’s obvious with the “rugrat with dumb pointy shades” is you, Dave. You wore them up until middle school. You are a rather cute toddler. You can’t be older than four here.

TG: why are you showing me this 

TT: I’m sure you noticed the rings on their fingers, Dave. It’s difficult to see but they’re there. There is also the note in the corner of the picture.

TT: “Finally made it! Our first night in the city, Roxy! We did it! <3 – JCE 11.9.12 :)”

TG: whats the big deal

TT: Dave, stop being so obstinate and force the part of your lobes that makes you write awful rap lyrics to do a little bit of math and critical thinking.

TT: You know my birthdate and the date in this picture matches five months before and you know my mother’s surname, Dave. Whoever “JCE” is knew them both.     

TG: so what

TG: youre like my

TG: what would that even be

TT: The possible daughter of your brother? The applicable term is niece…if Dirk even is your brother to begin with.

TG: of course he is

TT: Your ages are rather far apart for him to be your brother.

TG: people have kids later on its not uncommon

TT: Do you even own any pictures of your parents?

TG: burned up in the fire

TT: Ah, the fire: the mysterious blaze that pops up and brushes away any questions about the past concerning both of our legal guardians. And where exactly was this fire?

TG: i dont remember this happened years back

TG: i was like a baby when it happened

TT: How old were you exactly?

 

You were actually about the age you are in the picture when it happened.

You don’t like to think about the fire. Not at all. You want to change the subject. Mainly, you want to ollie-outie of this topic and pretend the photo Rose sent you doesn’t exist. You debate about making up some bullshit excuse.

 

TG: i dont know what youre getting at with all of this

TG: it doesnt matter now

TT: I just wonder about all the things my mother told me over the years; all those little lies and how far back they stretch to the origin of this habit of keeping me in the dark first originated. Not that I mind the darkness but still, when you are kept in the dark for so long your eyes begin to adjust and pick things apart.

TG: well pick apart your own darkness lalonde

TG: not all of us are like you

TT: Thank Fluthlu for that. I doubt I would stay sane long on a planet of thing but clones of myself. Most likely it would end in an enraged genocidal slaying that would offend even the Noble Circle.  

TG: well great for you

TG: let me know if you find anymore mysteries lying around your house

TG: like whatever happened to the false emperor and maybe the lost cities of derse and prospit while youre at it

TG: they might even make an underrated animated movie after your findings

TT: I actually do not care for Prospit: The Lost Empire but I suppose I will take that as a compliment, Dave.

TG: sure

TG: whatever

— turntechGodhead ceased trolling tentacleTherapist! -—

 

Of course the danger with talking to Rose about anything personal is that your own issues get dragged up to the surface and _unlike_ her, you prefer to leave things be. You surf the internet.

 

You don’t look at the picture and you don’t delete it. It exists. You ignore it, as you usually do.

 

8:13 PM

The sun is finally setting. You hear police sirens in the distance. The trailerpark breathes a sigh of relief when cold fetid swamp air rolls in to push out the summertime heat. You end up watching The Daily Show with Troll John Stewart mocking the speciesist policies of New Jack City’s current mayor and the isolationist habits of the Mainland. Karkat ends up falling asleep on your shoulder. Apparently indigestion drained most of his energy away. You notice the chain hanging around his neck.

Usually it’s tucked into his ratty sweater but you can see the line of silver around his throat. You never thought it was anything special. Jewelry and accessories are common to high school, especially if it’s a pretty fake. You move the chain from around his throat and realize there’s no blue-green smear.

Which means the silver chain around Karkat’s neck is not a cheap fake at all. You squint and realize it’s not silver either; it’s not shiny enough and the little loops that hold it together look strong—as if it would take a great deal of strength to break them.

You end up looking at what’s on the end of the chain.

It’s a Signless symbol. You tilt your head. You never took Karkat for a Signless Orthodox follower. Usually they’re a little less…angry and constantly swearing. Then again, it could be a gift, or maybe his parents practice it. You don’t remember Terezi mentioning if Karkat was religious or not. You’re not really the expert on religion. Theohorrocratic studies is Rose’s division and John hates the idea of mentioning any kind of church in his downtime because the Batterwitch might pop up with sudden interest.

And Jade…well; you try not to think about it.

You can’t remember the last time you were in a church.

You might have to ask Terezi about this if she isn’t preoccupied plotting with the GM of her SnB session to have Vriska’s character accidentally killed.

You try to nudge Karkat awake but the troll yawns and mumbles “Ten more minutes, Mom” with his eyes are still squeezed shut. Your resolve caves like a house of cards and you end up carrying the stupid troll to your bed. He’s small and he doesn’t weigh much. 

He purrs the entire way. It’s embarrassing as fuck and you’re almost glad that Bro isn’t home right now.


	3. Chapter 3

9:04 PM

Karkat’s conked out on your bed. Bro still has not shown up. You are on your husktop once again, composing some ill beats to post to your Trollbook. You’re feeling inspired. Maybe fucking Karkat has something to do with that? Like fucking him is somehow jarring the part of your brain that wants to make music and slap down lyrics, like some kind of needy strawberry muse?

Strawberry Muse. That’s a good title.

You’re three verses deep when Terezi messages you.

— grimConquistador began trolling turntechGodhead! -—

GC: URGHHH! 1 H4T3 TH4T SP1D3RB1TCH SOM3T1M3S!

TG: im guessing the game session didnt go as well as you planned it

GC: D4MN R1GHT 1T D1DNT GO W3LL COOLK1D! >:/

TG: they dont call me sherlock for nothing

GC: MY B4RD OF M1ND 3ND3D UP 1N FLUSH FOR H3R STUP1D TH13F OF T1M3 B3C4US3 SH3 ROLL3D FOR 1T 4ND NOW 1 C4NT K1LL H3R CH4R4CT3R B3C4US3 TH4T WOULD D3F1N1T3LY S3ND MY CH4R4CT3R 1NTO 4 SP1R4L OF 3MOT1ON4L M1S3RY 4ND M4K3 HIM US3L3SS 1N BATTL3 FOR 4T L34ST ON3 GAM3 MONTH!

GC: SH3 PL4NN3D 1T TH1S W4Y!!!

 

TG: oh the perils of complicated troll romance between fictional roleplaying characters who arent even trolls the last time i checked

GC: 1 4LR34DY TOLD YOU TH4T TH3YR3 TROLL-L1K3 S1NC3 OUR PR3V1OUS S3SS1ON CR34T3D SOM3 SORT OF R3PT1L3 4L13N TH3Y H4V3 QU4DR4NTS L1K3 TROLLS BUT TH3Y H4V3 HUM4N STYL3 F4M1L13S W1TH MOTH3RS 4ND F4TH3RS

GC: NOT TH4T 1T W4S MY 1D34 S1NC3 4R4D14 ROLL3D FOR TH3 4L13NS OUR PR3V1OUS SNB S3SS1ON WOULD CR34T3 1N TH31R N3W UN1V3RS3

GC: 1 W4NT3D DR4GON 4L13NS! >:(

TG: yeah you and your love of the scaled ones

TG: im surprised youre not dating some open minded crocodile

GC: GROSS! 1 WOULD N3V3R D4T3 4 CROCOD1L3! TH3YR3 HYP3R4CT1V3 4ND 4NNOY1NG!

TG: you said you would date a human

GC: TH4TS D1FF3R3NT! YOU HUM4NS 4R3 4T L34ST HUM4NO1D

GC: 1 DONT 3V3N KNOW HOW CROCOD1L3S H4V3 1NT3RCOURS3 4ND 1 DONT L1K3 TO POND3R ON TH4T SUBJ3CT FOR V3RY LONG B3C4US3 1TS W31RD!

GC: 1 DONT 3V3N L1K3 KNOW1NG TH4T TH3R3 4R3 P3OPL3 W1TH THOS3 1NCL1N4T1ONS TOW4RDS NON HUM4NO1DS

TG: youd be surprised

TG: i know theres a black carapace on shaker hill whose wife is a salamander

GC: TH3YR3 NOT OFF1C14LLY QU4DR4NT3D 4T L34ST NOT L3G4LLY W1TH M4YOR BLOWH4RD NOT 4LLOW1NG 1NT3RSP3C13S QU4DR4NT1NG 3SP3C14LLY W1TH NON HUM4NO1DS

TG: theres very few people willing to come forward and admit they even date outside their species

TG: were all foreign invaders on this planet

TG: none of us belong here except maybe the turtles since no one knows where they come from

TG: its the new century and they still give you the hairy eyeball when you say a troll is attractive

GC: YOU SOUND L1K3 K4RK4TS SOC14L JUST1C3 F4TH3R WH3N H3S NOT DRUNK3NLY SLURR1NG H1S WORDS D4V3! >:]

GC: 1M GO1NG TO 4SSUM3 V1ST1NG K4RKL3S W3NT W3LL H33 H33!

 

If by “it went well” she means “you fucked his brains out several times and now he’s pretty much made himself at home”, then yes. Karkat rolls over onto his side again. The longer he sleeps, the more restless he gets. He’s nearly fallen off the bed twice now.

 

TG: yeah you could say that

GC: OH MY!

GC: YOU DO R34L1Z3 1 WANT D3T41LS Y3S? >:]

TG: not happening

GC: WH4T? WHY NOT? 1T W4S MY 1D34 TO DROP YOU TH3 H1NT TH4T K4RK4T W4S 1N 4 N33DY W4Y 4S SOM3 WOULD S4Y!

GC: TH4T H3 W4S 4 L1TTL3 B1T MOR3…..OP3N M1ND3D TH4N USU4L 1N H1S CURR3NT CON1D1T1ON

GC: WHY NOT T3LL M3? >;]

TG: something tells me karkat doesnt want a gossip to know about this or what happened

TG: hey is it normal for trolls be so restless when theyre not sleeping in one of your weird slime pods

GC:  TH3 R3CUP3R4COON?

GC: 4WWW! 4R3 YOU TRY1NG TO SNUGGL3 4ND H3 K33PS MOV1NG 4ROUND 4ND SCR4TCH1NG YOU W1TH H1S PO1NTY L1TTL3 CL4WS?

TG: more like im sitting here and he keeps wiggling around like hes trying to bboy it up in his sleep

TG: im thinking about heading out to walgreens and getting him the sopor tablets before he falls off the bed

GC: TH3 SOPOR1C SL1M3 1N 4 R3CUP3R4COON ONLY DULLS TH3 S3NS3S WH1CH L3TS SOM3 TROLLS SL33P 34S13R TH4N OTH3RS SOM3 TROLLS C4N GO W1THOUT 4 H1GH CONC3NTR4T1ON OF SOPOR 1N TH31R SL1M3 1 KNOW T4VROS SL33PS F1N3 W1THOUT 1T

GC: OTH3R TROLLS N33D 4 H1GH3R DOS3 OR TH3Y G3T N1GHTM4R3S L1K3 F3F3R1

TG: so without your drugged sleepytime slime you get nightmares

GC: 1TS NOT TH3 S4M3 FOR 4LL TROLLS!

GC: 1T D3P3NDS ON H3MOTYP3 4ND G3N3T1C H1STORY N3P3T4 1S OL1V3 H3MOTYP3 BUT B3C4US3 H3R F4TH3R 1S PURPL3 H3MOTYP3 SH3S PRON3 TO N1GHTM4R3S L1K3 H3 1S 4ND 1T T4K3S LONG3R FOR H3R TO F4LL 4SL33P WH1CH 1S WHY MOST PURPL3BLOODS H4V3 H1GH3R DOS3S OF SOPOR 1N TH31R R3CUP3R4COONS

GC: 4ND TH4T’S WHY SOPOR 4DD1CT1ON 1S SUCH 4 PROBL3M 4MONG TH31R H3MOTYP3 M4NY OF TH3M JUST N33D 1T TO G3T 4 FULL N1GHTS SL33P 1TS NOT TH3IR FAULT >:(

TG: does karkat have any crazy grape in him

GC: 1 WOULDNT KNOW 4ND TH4TS 4N OFF3NS1V3 SLUR

GC: 1F N3P3T4 H34RD YOU S4Y 1T SH3D SK1N YOU 4L1V3

TG: yeah yeah i know

TG: the cute catgirl whos into shipping and online rpgs would rip me to shreds if i piss her off or get her sweaty pal to do it for her

GC: N3P3T4 1SNT L1K3 TH4T 4ND N31TH3R 1S 3QU1US! SH3 H4S PR3TTY GOOD 4NG3R M4N4G3M3NT SK1LLS FOR H3R 4G3 THOUGH 1TS PROB4BLY B3C4US3 H3R MOTH3R 1S 4 C4LM OL1V3 4ND NOT 4 F3R4L ON3

TG: olivebloods can be feral?

GC: OL1V3S 4R3 31TH3R C1V1L1Z3D H3LP3RS OR TH3YR3 CR4ZY 4BOUT HUNT1NG TH1NGS 4ND L1V1NG 1N TH3 WOODS L1K3 SOM3 SORT OF TROLL H1LLB1LLY

GC: K4N4Y4 WOULD KNOW MOR3 4BOUT H3MOTYP3S 4ND 4LL TH31R TR41TS

TG: sounds like youre doing your own research about it

TG: this for the final paper in english or something

GC: F1N4L P4P3R 1N CH3M1STRY 4CTU4LLY!

TG: you doing it on soporin like ninety percent of the kids in our class

GC: M1ND HON3Y 4CTU4LLY WH1CH 1S 4 B1GG3R PROBL3M B3C4US3 NO ON3 T4LKS 4BOUT 1T

TG: …

TG: im guessing mituna isnt doing so well

GC: NO NOT R34LLY

TG: is he

GC: 1 DONT W4NT TO T4LK 4BOUT 1T

GC: 4T L34ST NOT R1GHT NOW

TG: got you

TG: aww fuck

GC: WH4T 1S 1T?

TG: he finally fell off the bed and hes still not awake

TG: guy sleeps like a damn log

GC: H33 H33! TH4TS 4DOR4BL3!

TG: how in fuck does anyone take his anger seriously

TG: he thinks of himself as a bloodthirsty impossibly strong troll

GC: K4RK4T 4S BLOODTH1RTSTY?

GC: H3S MOR3 L1K3…4DOR4BLOODTH1RSTY 1F YOU 4SK M3! H33 H33 >:]

TG: its like having a chihuahua strut around thinking its a timber wolf

TG: hold on let me help mr adorabloodthirsty back up

 

You spend the next thirty minutes trying to get Karkat back onto the bed. This task is considerably more difficult than you thought it would be as Karkat thrashes around even while sleeping. Sleep Karkat is considerably more of a pain than awake Karkat.

You end up with your limbs tangled around Karkat’s on your bed. You’re exhausted beyond all fuck and decide to sleep with Karkat still clinging on you.

* * *

 

11:53 PM

You wake up to the sound of screaming. The walls of all the trailers are thin as sliced bread. You disentangle yourself from Karkat and get your gun from under the bed. The bed creaks as Karkat stirs more. You’re not sure if he’s still restless or slowly waking up.

From the sound of the shouting and snarling, it’s another troll on troll scuffle. Hopefully no one pulls out a black market weapon and starts firing. You walk to the front of the trailer and peek from between the metal blinds, sweat running down the side of your face.


End file.
